


Tabula Rasa

by tastyboots



Series: I Eat My Pinto Beans with a Spork OR I Don't Know What to Title This Series [9]
Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Angsty Schmoop, Fatherhood, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-23
Updated: 2009-08-23
Packaged: 2017-11-06 08:09:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/416635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tastyboots/pseuds/tastyboots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-breakup!fic. Chris and Zach haven't spoken to each other in since they broke each other's heart eight months ago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tabula Rasa

Chris knew this door. He had walked through this door hundreds of times. One could say that he and this door had been friends; besides maybe bumping into the frame a couple of times, it had never hurt him. Yet, Chris couldn't bring himself to lift his hand and knock. The doorbell would've been an easy out, but he hated the obnoxious things and refused to use them. Chris rubbed his hands over his eyes, he was acting like such a wimp. With his eyes still closed he rapped his fist against the door. He really hoped that Zach had heard that, because he didn't think he could do it again.

The door opened and Chris's words died in his throat.

"Can I help you?"

Oh god, he hadn't been prepared for this. He had been prepared to be met with anger, with sadness, maybe even with a punch to the face, but not with a pretty young girl.

"Um," Chris felt like such an idiot, a pathetic idiot, "Is Zach, er, up?"

"No, he's still sleeping. You're Chris, right?" the girl took in his nod and opened the door wider, "Why don't you come on in?"

Chris scratched the back of his neck and followed her inside. He couldn't help but notice subtle changes in the decor; Zach had bought a new coffee table since the last time Chris had been inside, and the house was messier than he could ever remember it being. The girl led him to the couch where she hastily picked up a few empty beer bottles and put them into the recycling bin, which he could see contained little else, before offering him a seat. Chris sat, lightly tracing a short line of ink he had accidentally marked the sofa with. He remembered how angry Zach had been and how Chris had apologized profusely before resorting to kissing the other man just to shut him up.

The girl hovered awkwardly for a moment, "Can I get you anything? Something to drink?"

"No, I'm good," Chris replied.

"Are you sure? I was just gonna make myself some tea," she said, gesturing behind her at the tea kettle sitting on the stove.

"Well, then, I guess a cup would be nice."

The girl smiled and headed back into the kitchen and Chris took the opportunity to study this woman whom he had never seen before. Her short, spiky hair, obviously not naturally blond, stuck up every which way as if she was a messy sleeper or had taken part in crazy, hot, monkey-sex the night before. As much as he hated to admit it, the fact that she also seemed to be wearing one of Zach's shirts and a pair of his drawstring sweats pretty much confirmed the latter. She wasn't a one-night stand; a practical stranger wouldn't have been comfortable enough to answer his door, but they couldn't have been dating long if the way she was fumbling through his cabinets in search of the tea was any indication. Chris wanted to call out, Left, above the stove, but he kept his mouth shut and she eventually found the tea bags on her own. Their relationship probably wasn't very serious, either, if she didn't have any clothes at Zach's house. Hell, Chris was pretty sure he had never taken back the clothes he had left here. The thought made him wonder if Zach had throw them away or if they were still in the drawer that had once been Chris's.

"Is chai okay?" the girl called from the kitchen.

"Chai is fine," Chris recalled lazy mornings sipping chai tea on this very couch.

She soon brought over two steaming cups of the stuff, the little jar of sugar Zach kept by his stove and the whole carton of half-and-half and set everything down on the coffee table that brought no memories of his relationship with it's owner. Chris quickly placed his mug on a coaster, but noticed that the girl hadn't bothered to. They hadn't been dating for very long at all then, if she didn't know better not to put her mug directly on the table. The notion shouldn't have made him smile, but it did; Zach had ingrained it into his head that coasters were to be used on every flat surface except the kitchen counters and the dinning room table.

"Oh, sorry, I forgot that you probably have no idea who I am. My name's Emily."

Emily. Not the name he would've guessed, and it didn't really fit the short, dyed hair, but maybe it had fit her better before she had chopped it off and bleached it.

Emily ran a hand through said hair, "I guess my dad and I don't really look alike," she said.

Chris's brow furrowed, "Your dad?"

"Yeah," Emily said slowly, "I'm Zach's daughter."

There was a pause in which Chris attempted to reboot his brain, and Emily stared at him, eyebrows raised.

"You're what?" Chris finally managed to force out of his gaping mouth.

Emily sighed, "This takes a bit of explaining."

"It sure as hell does! You're his daughter?" Chris couldn't seem to wrap his mind around that one.

"Yes," Emily said.

"How old are you?" Chris asked incredulously.

"Eighteen."

Chris's brain rumbled to a start, she definitely didn't look eighteen, "So Zach got your mom pregnant when he was... what, seventeen?"

"Yeah," Emily nodded.

"How old was your mom?"

"Eighteen. You know," she said, "This would be a whole lot simpler if you just let me tell the story."

Chris sighed and leaned back on the couch, attempting to quell the questions bouncing around his head so he could concentrate on what Emily had to say.

"My mom was a senior in high school, Zach a junior, when she got pregnant with me. They'd been dating for a couple of months before they decided to 'take their relationship to the next level' and the way I heard it, it was my mom's idea."

That made sense to Chris, because as far as he knew, Zach was more into guys than girls, but maybe that was a bit mean. Zach wouldn't have had sex with this girl if he hadn't liked her at all; he knew him well enough to know that.

"When my mom told my grandparents she was pregnant, they freaked and promptly shipped her off to live with my great grandparents in Florida. So I grew up in the Sunshine State with my mom and my great grandparents until they died and then my mom basically raised me on her own. Mom said that she never got the chance to tell my dad about me, but knowing her, that probably means that she didn't have the courage to tell him before she left. She never told me who my dad was either, she just left me a letter in her will."

"Oh," Chris said, "I'm sorry."

Emily ran a hand through her hair, a trait Chris now realized she'd inherited from her father, and shrugged, "Not your fault," she sighed, "Anyway, I showed up at Zach's door about six months ago all, 'Surprise, I'm your daughter!' and now I live in an apartment not too far from here."  
“How did your mom die?” Chris asked. Emily flinched.

“Sorry,” he said, “You don't have to tell me if you don't--”

“No,” Emily said, “It's okay. Um, she had an aneurysm. Almost a year ago.”

“I'm sorry for your loss.”

Emily nodded, “Thank you.”

"… So why'd you spend the night here?" Chris asked, gesturing toward her outfit to change the subject.

Emily pulled at a stray thread hanging off the shirt she was wearing, "My dad got wasted at some bar last night and called me to come pick him up. I stayed because he asked me to. And to make sure he wouldn't choke on his own vomit or anything similarly disturbing."

Chris frowned. Zach had never really been much of a casual drinker; sure, he'd throw back a beer or four at a party, but he wasn't the type to go out drinking alone. Or at least he hadn't used to be.

"… So what brings you here at," Emily glanced at the clock, "Nine o'clock in the A.M.?"

Chris licked his bottom lip, "Um... To make peace, I guess," he said it like it was a question. "And to ask Zach if he wanted to come jogging with me." Chris shrugged, "But he's probably going to be very hung over, so I should just go." Chris stood up to leave.

"No, no! Don't leave. You should stay and talk to him," Emily said hastily.

Chris raised an eyebrow, but reclaimed his seat.

"I think," Emily took a deep breath, "I think he's been waiting for you to knock on his door. I mean, the idiot should've just talked to you, but he didn't and he probably has a whole arsenal of bad excuses as to why he didn't, but he sort of spilled the beans last night while while he was all drunk and sentimental and stuff, so I really think you should stay and talk to him. From what he was saying last night, I'm pretty sure he still--"

"Emily?" The voice came from behind Chris's head and Emily looked up in surprise. "Who're you talking to?"

Chris ordered his heart to stop racing as he twisted around to face the man behind him. Zachary froze, right hand about to push through his messy bed-head.

“Chris?”

Chris didn't know what to say, how to start. This had seemed so much simpler before he was actually face-to-face with the man he hadn't spoken to in so long.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Zach asked, arms folded across his chest.

Chris heard Emily stand behind him, "I'm gonna go get dressed. You boys talk."

Chris threw a betrayed look her way as she passed them on her way to Zach's spare bedroom. Zach was still waiting for Chris to answer him; emotions hidden behind the best poker face he'd ever seen. Despite the shadows under his eyes, the unshaved chin, the messy hair, and the rumpled clothes he'd fallen asleep in the night before, Chris still thought Zach was beautiful. Over the past few months, Chris had learned to ignore the ache in his chest that came from missing him and the Zach-shaped hole in his life and his heart, but standing in such close proximity to the man brought back the ache made the hole seem that much bigger.

So Chris swallowed his pride and said what he should've eight months ago, "I'm sorry, Zach."

There were other three-word phrases hovering on the tip of his tongue; imissyouiloveyoutakemeback, but Chris kept them trapped behind his lips.

The emotionless mask cracked for a second and Chris was allowed a glimpse of the anger, pain, and sorrow hidden beneath, "You're a bit late," Zach said.

"I know."

Zach sighed and dropped his gaze to the floor, "It doesn't really matter, but why now?"

"I--" missyouiloveyoutakemeback, "I figured I'd never really forgive myself until I made things right with you," Chris said.

"Of course," Zach scoffed, "It's all about you. I forgave you a long time ago, okay? So now why don't you just get on with your happy life and leave me to get on with mine."

Chris groaned, "That came out wrong. I--"

"Nothing you say ever comes out the way you mean it, does it, Chris? It's not that you're a selfish prick, it's that 'it came out wrong' or that 'that's not what you--"

"I missed you! Alright?" Chris exclaimed, leaping to his feet and moving around the couch until he stood the closest to Zach that he had been in eight months, "I missed you," he whispered.

Zach ran a hand across his face and through his hair, "Yeah," he closed the distance between them and enveloped Chris in a hug, "I missed you, too."

Chris dropped his head onto Zach's shoulder, reveling in his scent and the feel of their bodies pressed together. Granted, the older man could use a shower, and he practically reeked of alcohol, but Chris could still pick up the smell of his shampoo and his laundry detergent.

"We can't just pick up where we left off, Chris," Zach said.

Chris swallowed around the lump in his throat, "Why not?" he murmured.

Zachary pulled away and Chris reluctantly released him, "We haven't spoken to each other in months. I mean, we didn't exactly end our relationship on friendly terms."

Chris grabbed the arms that had been wrapped around him just a moment ago, "Let's start over. Tabula rasa." Chris let go and jogged over to the front door.

"What are you doing?"

"Just wait," Chris said before he let himself out.

Seconds later he knocked on the door and Zach dutifully opened it.

"Hi, I'm Chris Pine, I live in the neighborhood, what's your name?"

Zach rolled his eyes, chuckling, "Zachary Quinto. Nice to meet to. C'mon in."

Chris stepped inside, and Zach pushed the door closed, but didn't move back, leaving them scant inches apart. Chris could just barely feel Zach's breath hit his face and he remembered how their lips felt when pressed together, recalled patterns Zach used to trace on the roof of his mouth with his tongue, and the pounding of his heart was no memory.

"Oh, for Christ's sake," Zach and Chris jerked away from each other, "Just kiss already!" Emily said before disappearing back into the guest room.

The men turned back toward each other. "Tabula rasa?" the younger man asked.

"Tabula rasa," Zach confirmed as he pulled Chris to him and pressed their lips together just like Chris remembered. There would be time for that last three-word phrase later.

### A couple months later...

Chris rarely woke up before Zach, but today he did and when he went into the kitchen, Emily was waiting with hot chocolate. 

"Hot chocolate?" she asked, "It's good, I swear." 

Chris eyed her and the two mugs of the warm chocolaty beverage suspiciously. His brain screamed, TRAP! but he joined her at the small kitchen table anyway. 

Emily held up a bag, "Mini marshmallows?" 

Chris nodded and she poured enough of the little things into his mug so that he could no longer see the hot chocolate underneath. Emily allowed him a sip and a moment to enjoy it (it really was good) before she jumped right in. 

"When are you going to go public about dating my dad?" 

Chris was thankful that she waited until he swallowed to ask, because hot chocolate is not the easiest thing to get out of clothing and also, spit takes are sort of gross. 

Chris cleared his throat, "No small talk, eh?" 

Emily raised an eyebrow, "I like to get to the point. So?" 

"Um... Never?" 

"Oh come on, Chris!" Emily stood and crossed to the fridge, "Sooner or later, the paps are gonna snap a picture and it probably won't be flattering and it might just ruin both of your careers." 

"Exactly," Chris said, "I don't particularly want to be out of a job." 

Emily slammed a tray of chocolate mint cookies on the table and reclaimed her seat, "It won't ruin your careers if you go about it the right way. You could make a nice little public announcement like Neil Patrick Harris did, or set up an interview on a talk show, or something. Maybe you could go on _Ellen_!" 

"What? No, I'm not telling the world about your dad and I on the _Ellen_. Zach is--" 

"Zach has been waiting for you to bring it up. I think he's ready," she held out a cookie, "Will you at least think about it?" 

Chris licked his lips nervously, "Yeah," he said, grabbing the offered treat, "I'll think about it." 

Emily squealed and beamed. 

"No promises, though!" he said around a mouthful of cookie. 

She nodded enthusiastically and gave him a peck on the cheek before scampering off to who-knows-where. Chris smiled and finished his hot chocolate.


End file.
